


Rain

by pcctheant



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Kinda, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Not a lot tho, Panic Attacks, Smitten Keith (Voltron), Tears, Writer Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 12:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16723665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pcctheant/pseuds/pcctheant
Summary: Lance was great at distracting himself from his problems. He could bury his feelings easily and keep them hidden under a fake mask. It's harder when to do that when you have nothing to protect you from your own thoughts, but it was impossible not to get distracted by the rain.





	Rain

The world was wondrous and serene. The boy sat down on the floor by his window and sank into a comfortable position. He was relaxed. The rain continued outside. He recognized the sound of splashes on the gutter. The sound of water traveling down aforementioned gutter was added. An uneven beat on the roof became a constant in his mind, and it faded into the background after it had made itself known. Rain striking the trees, lawn, and pavement outside joined the rhythm on the roof. The wind rustled the trees, so they swayed back and forth with the bushes outside. The boy looked out his window and sighed. The world outside was dim except for a single streetlamp and the light from the house across the road. No one was out on the street. The sun was covered by clouds and the world seemed to be dipped in a light shade of grey. The laughter of children and barking of dogs had vanished. Everything was hiding from the rain. Everything, but him. He wanted to be outside. To laugh and play in the rain. To dance with the trees. To feel the rain run down his face and look closely at the clear drops. Instead, he was stuck inside with a distorted view from the window. 

While he observed the outside world, he couldn’t help letting his mind wander. Each day it was a chore to wake up and get out of bed. It became increasingly harder to find the strength to stand up and focus. He no longer had any strength to do anything, and his days were spent working and questioning whether or not he was doing anything right. He just wanted some time to decompress and take a breath. That was all. He wanted to have more instances like this. This time would not last forever. He had accepted that. He knew that soon he would force himself to get back to work. The voices in his head would yell his name and yank him from his thoughts. They would shove him back into the misery that was his life. All the work. All the expectations. All the stress he put on himself. They would not change. They could only increase, and the burden on his shoulders would only get heavier and heavier. He had no choice in what he wanted sometimes. He had no choice in how exactly he wanted his days to go. He had no choice in several things. At times he was fine with that. However, sometimes he would scream in frustration at things out of his control. He would try to calm down. Sometimes, his attempts worked and he kept his emotions bottled up. He was determined to not cause any trouble to the people close to him. However, he would grow violent and indignant from his failed attempts at gaining composure. He wished he could stop. He had tried with all his might, yet each failure was burned into his brain. His thoughts grew stormy as he thought more and more. Why? Why couldn’t he do better? Why was he such a failure? Why couldn’t he just be the person that everyone wanted him to be? Questions similar to these flooded his mind like how the water outside flooded the streets. He wanted to do better. Why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t anything working? He could think of nothing else. He could only question himself more and more. What was he doing wrong? Was he doing anything right? What if no one liked him because he was doing everything wrong? Those questions wouldn’t stop. They were torrential, and they were deafening. They didn’t seem to quiet. They only faded away when the boy’s attention was drawn away from his thoughts by the sound of precipitation colliding with his window. He stared at the world behind the glass.

The view was blurred from the trails of water the raindrops left as they drifted down the pane, but he wasn’t upset about that. The large dormer towered above, and he was entranced by the scene outside. It seemed so right to stop with the rest of the world and stare. To take a breath. The heavy, blue curtains that usually covered the window were drawn back, and they were kept in place by bronze hooks attached to the wall. He had turned the lights off, so the only light that came in was from the window. The faint light surrounded his body, and he took in his reflection in the windowpane. He wore his pajamas and had donned a warm blanket. His brown, short hair was messy and curly instead of the neat, straight hairstyle it usually was. He couldn’t bear to look at his horrid face. The rest of the room was dark. It was hard to see around him, but he knew what was there. He didn’t need the lights to know. Pages and pages of writing were spread haphazardly across the carpet. They all contained sentences upon sentences of words. They all held descriptions of the rainfall. He had tried to capture the moment in writing. He had tried countless times, but he found that he could not do it. The classical music he had playing in the background ended a piece and softly started another. He knew he was just distracting herself from the turmoil of his life, but this moment was perfect. He had given up on trying to describe it. He didn’t want to ruin its beauty with his atrocious words.

“Lance.” His name was called softly. The owner of the voice was in the kitchen. “Come on. Come make dinner.” He turned and saw his boyfriend. He took in the violet eyes of the beauty before him. The dark black hair that was usually down in a mullet. Now the silky, soft hair was up in a ponytail. The pale skin that would burn if he spent too long in the sun. Keith. He was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed and a fond look in his eyes. He wore a brown apron over his bright red shirt and black jeans. It was stained with several different paints that served as evidence of his job. How could someone this great love him? It puzzled and nagged him constantly. Keith could do better. Obviously. Of all people why did Keith choose him? He would never know. 

“Alright.” Lance gave Keith a short answer. He wanted to be alone. Just alone. All Lance wanted was silence. Keith deserved better. So much better. Nothing about Lance was good. It was all bad. Even something that seemed good was just fake. His whole demeanor was shallow and made up. Superficial. There was nothing to love. Nothing to enjoy. Nothing to like. It was all something to be hated. 

Keith knew his boyfriend. He knew almost everything there was to know about Lance. He knew the hidden freckles on Lance’s caramel skin. He knew the shining light that always appeared in those beautiful blue eyes whenever his boyfriend laughed. He knew Lance. At this moment, he was glad he knew him. If they had just been simple friends who only knew what was on the surface, then he wouldn’t have seen how Lance’s eyes began to dull when his insecurities started to take over. It was Keith’s job to make sure Lance was okay. It was his job to burn away any horrible thoughts that plagued Lance’s head. However, Keith knew better than to push. Lance would talk when he was ready. Keith knew this and loved Lance. No matter what Lance thought. With that thought in his head, he exited the room and closed the door. He thought he was making a good decision when he turned away.

Lance could hear the squeal and click of the door closing. The hinges probably needed to be oiled. At least they were less broken than he was. They could be made better. There was something to work with. There was something there to improve on. Not with Lance. Ugly. Dull, greasy hair. Oily, uncomfortable skin that would not improve even with the number of products he used. Itchy. All over his body. Everywhere. He couldn’t breathe. He covered his face with his hands. Why? Why couldn’t he breathe? Why couldn’t he move? He could hear quick gasps for breath, but they couldn’t be his. He wasn’t breathing. He was stupid. He couldn’t even breathe correctly. It was a feeling he was familiar with. He moved his hands to a position where he was just holding his head. It was all he could do. That was all he could do. His vision was beginning to blur. It steadily began to become worse and worse. His head began to pound with the thoughts he had. They increased in volume and started to shout. Please. Be quiet. Please. Please. Please. It repeated over and over in his head. He couldn’t fight back. It had to end soon. It had to end before his parents came in. Before they say their broken son freaking out again. Before they yelled at him for making such a racket. He couldn’t cry. If he cried they wouldn’t be happy. He was supposed to be stronger than this. Much stronger. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t breathe. That was his fault.

Suddenly, a cry rang out through the house. It was of pain. It held some sort of desperation. Hopelessness. Immediately, Keith knew something was wrong. He abandoned the painting he had been working on and sprinted to the room where he had left Lance. What he saw made his heart plummet. Lance was curled up in a ball on the floor and muttering words to himself while his eyes leaked tears. It was heart-shattering to see his boyfriend suffering. Lance was strong. So strong. It was hard to see him like this. Vulnerable and sad. Keith could decipher apologies despite the frequent gasps for air. Why was Lance apologizing? He had done nothing wrong. Tears streamed down his face and he seemed to start to calm down. His breathes were beginning to even out. That didn’t ease Keith’s thoughts. Why wasn’t he there to help Lance? He could’ve helped. He could’ve prevented this. But Keith knew it was a waste of time to just sit there and think about what he should’ve done. Right now he needed to talk to Lance.

Lance hadn’t even realized that Keith was next to him until he felt Keith’s hand on his back. He didn’t mean to be loud. He didn’t mean to be such a burden. He was sorry, Keith. So sorry. Very sorry. He knew that sorry never meant anything, but he wanted Keith to at least know that he was trying. Would Keith leave him? He hadn’t meant to be loud, but if Keith wanted to leave Lance would not be able to stop him. Maybe it was just now that Keith had realized how repulsive he was. He was useless. He couldn’t do anything. All he could do was trick people into buying his garbage books. There was no originality in his stories. He wouldn’t be able to be a good partner for Keith. Why hasn’t Keith left him yet? He asked himself this every day. He knew those thoughts were repetitive and small, but that didn’t prevent them from being hurtful. Lance tortured himself with these thoughts. He had hoped that Keith would never realize how broken he was. It seemed that he couldn’t hide how damaged he was.

The look on Lance’s face tore into his soul. Keith reached out and encompassed Lance with his arms. He brought Lance’s head to his chest and put his head on top of Lance’s. With that, Keith started to cry. The tears didn’t seem like they would ever stop. Lance had looked so small. So helpless. So weak. It just didn’t seem like him. Lance was strong. His family had kicked him out, but now Lance was an award-winning author. He had gone through so much. He had done so much. It didn’t make sense that he was crying, but Keith knew that Lance wouldn’t cry unless he had a real reason to. Softly, Keith whispered to Lance, “Are you okay? Babe, can you tell me what’s wrong?” His voice quivered but for the most part, it was steady. “Keith. Please, don’t leave me. I know I’m being selfish. But please,” Lance pleaded. He burst into tears again. His shoulders shook from the sobs that left his mouth. “Oh, Lance,” Keith called out softly, “You aren’t being selfish. You are one of the most amazing people I know. I could never leave you.”

“How do you know that? Maybe you’re just lying to yourself about me. I’m really just a train wreck and you’re trying to convince yourself that I’m a masterpiece. Please, Keith, don’t lie to yourself. It’s better that you realize how terrible I am sooner than later. It’ll save you the effort. You won’t have to waste more time on me.”

Keith was never known to be great at handling emotions. It made it even harder that this was Lance. Incredible, beautiful, and wondrous Lance. It didn’t make sense that he couldn’t see how amazing he was. How could this have happened? Right in front of Keith. Had he been that blind? “Lance. Look at me.” Reluctantly, Lance looked over in fear that Keith was going to break up with him. Would it be much of a surprise? Probably not. Lance felt that this day would’ve come eventually. “Can you tell me what’s going on in that brilliant head of yours?” That question brought down all of his walls. With that one question, Lance was left defenseless.

Everything was flooding. Overflowing. The emotions held back over the years resurfaced, and Lance drowned in them. He wasn’t thinking. Just feeling. His voice came out shaky. “Keith. Why do you date me? What’s so great about me? I can’t do anything right. It feels like I’m just waiting for the day where everyone f-finally realizes that I’m not as great as I seem. I’m just a terrible person and I’m ugly. There’s absolutely n-nothing great about me. There are so many people living in this world. Compared to those people I’m nothing. I’m not smart. I’m not able to save lives. I’m not changing the world. D-don’t you see? I’m useless. I can’t even handle my own emotions properly. Geez, it’s j-just like my parents said. I guess they were right. After all, I haven’t done anything g-good in my life. You could do so much better than me. I don’t want to hold you back. I don’t want to be a b-b-burden.” Lance was aware that he was sobbing. He couldn’t speak properly. It happened every time he was forced to face his feelings. However, this time it was different. This time he had someone listening. 

“You aren’t useless. I wonder every day how I could’ve gotten someone as great as you, Lance. You don’t have to be the smartest, beautiful, or life-changing person in the world. To me, you are the most perfect person I know. I think, no, I know that I’ll never do better than you. Also, are you really going to remember what your parents said? They don’t talk to you anymore! They kicked you out for being bi! You aren’t a burden! You are a blessing, and I-” Keith cut off suddenly. He looked down to avoid looking Lance in the eyes. Quietly, so quiet that Lance had almost missed it, he whispered, “I love you.” At that moment the only sound that could be heard was the rain pattering outside the window. Once more, the world seemed to freeze. Everything and anything was in awe of the words uttered. Keith risked a glance at Lance’s face and paused. Lance was speechless. His stunning blue eyes were wide open in shock. He stared at Keith with tears in his eyes, but these tears didn’t seem to hold sadness. His caramel brown hands covered his mouth. He had stopped sobbing. Slowly, he brought his hands up to wipe away the tears left on his face. “Keith. I-I love you too. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do sometimes. It just becomes too much and I can’t handle it.” Keith shook his at Lance’s words. “Lance, don’t apologize. You’re fine. You don’t have to take it alone. You have me and you can talk to me whenever you want. You aren’t weak for wanting help. I don’t think anyone can handle those thoughts alone. No matter what you think, I’m will always be here for you.” His violet eyes met Lance’s blue ones and a silent promise was made. They leaned forward and shared a kiss in the barely-lit room. Lips met tenderly and Lance sunk into Keith’s embrace. For the first time ever, Lance felt at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments on anything that was good and what I should improve on.
> 
> Also, I'm going to have to go back on what I said about getting a new chapter out for He Wanted Peace. I'm going to be going back over it and rewriting a lot.


End file.
